


Friendly Competition

by yavannauk



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M, Snippets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-31
Updated: 2005-10-31
Packaged: 2017-11-25 00:12:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/633044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yavannauk/pseuds/yavannauk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John likes to run. Ronon catches him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friendly Competition

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [SV/SGA Flash Fiction Challenge](http://www.livejournal.com/users/svmadelyn/289473.html) for storydivagirl, her prompt was - Sheppard/Ronon banter is the only real request, the rest is up to the writer. I hope this hits the spot.  
> With thanks to Barbara for beta duties.

Atlantis had miles and miles of empty hallways, explored and declared safe, but not yet in regular use. As a result of his daily runs, John Sheppard felt as if he were getting to know most of them. He rather enjoyed the solitude they offered. It gave him a chance to think and clear his head and, in an odd way, it reminded him of his time in Antarctica.

Today, as he jogged back towards the inhabited areas of the city after his workout, John discovered that he wasn't the only one taking advantage of the maze of long corridors. The tall figure of Ronon Dex was unmistakable, approaching from the opposite direction. He stopped when he saw John.

"Sheppard," Ronon acknowledged when their paths crossed. "You want some company?"

"I'm kinda used to running by myself," John replied. He wasn't sure he was ready to give up the brief period of alone time his run afforded him.

Ronon shrugged. "Okay."

Thinking that was the end of their conversation, John turned to continue on his way back to his quarters. However, he stopped in his tracks when Ronon spoke again, his tone deceptively bland.

"I guess you can't take the competition," Ronon said.

John narrowed his eyes as he spun round and looked up at Ronon. "Are you saying I can't keep up with you?"

"You'll never know if you don't try," Ronon said, the barest hint of a smile on his face. "But it makes me wonder, the way you send your men to train with me, but never spar with me yourself..."

"Fine, you're on," John retorted, pulling himself up to his full height. "Let's see who makes it back to the transporter at the far end of this corridor first."

"That's it?" Ronon looked unimpressed. "I thought you'd want more of a challenge."

Privately, John thought that was more than enough of a challenge, given that he'd already run several miles this morning, but he decided against saying that to Ronon. After all, this was the guy who'd spent seven years running from the Wraith.

"I just thought I'd get a feel for the opposition first," John said finally.

Ronon cast a vaguely amused look in his direction. "It's okay; I'll go easy on you this time."

"Hey, don't do me any favours," John shot back.

"All right," Ronon agreed, far too easily for John's liking.

Then, without further warning, Ronon set off at a run in the direction of their goal.

"Damn it!" John muttered and chased after Ronon as fast as he could.

It quickly became apparent that John had no chance of catching Ronon. He was fast and lighter on his feet than his size would have suggested. By the time John reached the transporter, Ronon was leaning casually against the wall, waiting for him. He'd barely broken a sweat. John, on the other hand, was out of breath and his T-shirt was damp where it stuck to his skin.

"Nice work," John panted as he bent over, hands braced on his thighs. It was hard work just trying to breathe normally. "Next time... Next time I'll be ready for you."

"You need more practice," Ronon said as he pushed away from the wall.

"You think so?" John said wryly as he straightened up and scrubbed a hand across his face. He was hot and sticky and he really needed a shower. "I guess I'm more used to flying places, not running there."

"I could tell." The thread of amusement was still evident in Ronon's voice. "Though you run better than McKay."

John raised his eyebrows. "I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not."

"Probably not," Ronon deadpanned. He gave a deep, throaty laugh when John glared at him.

"I think I'll quit now and go hit the showers," John said. "Before I completely lose my credibility as your team leader."

He turned to open the transporter and was startled when a hand landed on his shoulder. Ronon spun him back around and then John found himself pushed up against the wall with Ronon in his face, totally ignoring the concept of personal space.

"Hey!" John protested.

"You lead the team just fine," Ronon said with conviction. "I'm quite willing to follow you."

"Well, that's good to know," John drawled, still eyeing Ronon a little warily. "And now I really should be..." He stopped abruptly when Ronon leaned in and nuzzled at his throat, then rasped his tongue across the sweaty skin. "Ronon?"

"You smell good," Ronon growled, as if that explained everything. "Taste good too."

"Ah - okay." John went very still, definitely not sure that it was any kind of explanation.

Regardless, he found himself trying to ignore the way his cock was stiffening in response, pushing at the front of his sweatpants. This was - unexpected to say the least. John had thought that Ronon had his eye on Teyla, not on him.

"You have a problem with this?" Ronon asked as he drew a hand slowly down John's chest. Broad fingertips circled John's nipples through the damp, clinging fabric of his T-shirt.

John opened his mouth to say that, yes, he did have a problem with it and that they couldn't do this. So, he was somewhat surprised when what came out was, "No. No I don't."

Ronon gave a rumble of approval, deep in his throat. "Good."

Apparently, that was all Ronon intended to say on the subject, because then he simply pressed John more firmly against the wall. He slid a leg between both of John's, his thigh rubbing John's cock through his pants. At the same time, Ronon's hand burrowed underneath John's shirt, clearly intent on finding bare skin to touch.

John choked off a groan of pleasure as Ronon's fingers traced patterns on his stomach and then moved up to tease his nipples some more. A small, dutiful voice in the back of his head told John that he really needed to put a stop to this. Right. Now. But then Ronon's mouth resumed its exploration of his neck, the rough tickle of his beard making John moan, and John decided that sometimes duty was seriously overrated.

He would freak out about how it might affect team dynamics, the implications of 'don't ask, don't tell' and any other reason why they shouldn't be doing this some other time. At this very second, John wanted heat, pressure, friction... God! Yes, he wanted Ronon to keep biting and sucking at his throat. He needed Ronon to carry on rocking into him, the hard muscle of his thigh pushing against John's swollen cock in just the right way.

With an effort, John managed to work one hand down the back of Ronon's pants, sliding his fingers between the cheeks of his ass to tease Ronon in return. Ronon seemed to approve of the gesture if the low grunt he gave was any sign. He continued rubbing against John and John could feel Ronon's cock, hard where it pressed into his hip as they moved together. Reaching up, John curved his other hand around the back of Ronon's neck, his fingers tangling in the coarse hair.

There was no finesse to what they were doing, but it felt like it was exactly what John needed, and Ronon too, it appeared. The simple, visceral pleasure of it, just trying to get each other off, quickly pushed both of them to the brink.

Ronon's hands suddenly tightened their grip and John knew he'd have marks to remember this by. He grabbed Ronon's ass harder and pulled him in close, grinding against the thick cock he could feel riding his hip. Then Ronon tore his mouth away from John's neck and threw his head back with a groan. John thrust faster and was rewarded when Ronon began to shudder, cursing loudly as he came hard.

The sharp scent of sex rising from Ronon's skin and the added pressure as he bucked against John was enough to trigger John's orgasm too. Pinned between Ronon and the wall he couldn't move much, but he shivered as the sensations rolled over him, bright and intense. Gasping for breath, John clutched at Ronon's body as he came in his pants. It felt like it was the best thing in the Pegasus galaxy.

By the time John was starting to come down from the endorphin high, Ronon was slumped heavily against him. Ronon was panting in a way he hadn't from the earlier physical exertion. John carefully eased his hand out of Ronon's pants and pushed at him until he took his own weight.

Ronon stretched slowly, the movement doing interesting things to his muscles that John couldn't quite stop himself from watching. John wondered when he was going to reach the freaking out stage of the whole experience, apparently, not just yet.

A lazy grin spread across Ronon's face, as he seemed to realise just how focused on him John was. "Guess we both need a shower now."

Looking up, John met Ronon's gaze.

"I guess we do," he agreed.

Ronon's grin turned sly. "Race you..."


End file.
